Hours after my lunch with Jo, I was finally home. I’d stayed longer at work to finish up a request. It would have sat fine over the weekend, but I didn’t want to deal with it first thing on Monday morning. Monday’s were the devil’s day. Each one should be stricken from the calendar and buried.

Trudging through the front door of my apartment, I wasn’t surprised to find it empty. Odds were that after Licia’s tour of the University of Wisconsin-Madison campus she’d went and found herself a party.

I didn’t have the energy to worry about her or any underage drinking that she might get into. I wasn’t her mother. I didn’t want to be her mother. There was a slack-ass woman back in Shullsburg who owned that title and was failing miserably at the job.

Usually, I wasn’t so exhausted after a work day. But I’d been buried under the emotional upheaval of Regi and Jo. I was unworthy of her help, but she’d given me a lot to think about after our lunch.

Tossing my coat across the coffee table without a care, I sank onto the couch and dropped my purse beside me. Licia hadn’t folded up the blanket or put the pillow away. A few crusty dishes and two empty water bottles sat on the end table, and a growing pile of dirty clothes grew like black fungus from her weekend bag. I tried to muster up a surge of annoyance.

No fucks given. I should care that she was turning my rather orderly house into a pigsty, but I couldn’t muster the outrage.

Weariness gnawed on my bones.

I dropped my head against the couch and closed my eyes, letting the quiet surrounding me sink in. I wanted to sleep the weekend away. It occurred to me that moping around was exactly what I would have done if Licia hadn’t shown up.

The soft buzz of an incoming text vibrated my phone. Cracking an eye open, I glanced at my purse. I was tempted to ignore it, but with Licia who knows where, I knew I shouldn’t. I unzipped my tote and pulled my cell out.

I wasn’t expecting the name that met my eyes. At least not for a while.

Regi. It usually took him a week to get over my rejection before re-opening the lines of communication. Though what had transpired between us was more than simple rejection. It had been a damn drama atom bomb.

Regi: We need to talk this out.

Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I considered if I should answer him. He was right. Jo was right. We needed to finish this thing between us; stake it, salt the earth, and be done with it.

Curiosity got the better of me as it always did with Regi, and I replied.

Me: Do you think talking will change anything?

Regi: It’s better than what we’ve been doing.

I sighed. Damn the man for being right. The truth of his words filled me, towing along a surge of guilt for how I’d treated him.

I was so fucked up. I sounded like a damn broken record yet, spinning ‘round and ‘round with the same message. I owed him so many apologies for stringing him along. But, did I want more from him? Did I want to try a relationship? The thought fucking terrified me.

Five minutes passed as I thought about what I wanted to say to him.

Regi: Still there?

I opted for the bald-faced truth.

Me: Yes. I don’t know what to say.

Regi: Whatever you want to say shouldn’t be in text. Can I come over?

My body clenched with a pulse of lust. No matter how much I tried to deny it, I wanted Regi on a purely physical level. Having him in my apartment, the two of us alone would end up with neither of us talking. In fact, I wasn’t entirely sure I wouldn’t meet him at the door naked. He never could resist my breasts. I’d be topless, and pull him inside, and then bend over the table and have his giant…

I shook the fantasy away. It’d been too long since I’d come. I would have to remedy that if I wanted to have a normal conversation with Regi. I couldn’t invite him into my bed only to cut him out of my life.

Me: That’s a really bad idea.

Regi: Why is that a bad idea?

I narrowed my eyes at the text. The insufferable man knew. He just wanted me to say it. Well, type it. I shifted on the couch, ignoring the heat building between my thighs and the memory of his big, hard body looming over mine. I’d kicked him out of my bed a year ago, and while I had a few sexual experiences since, none could replace the big guy. He was still the best lover I had ever had.

Me: You know why.

Regi: Maybe. Tell me.

My throat grew dry. I could hear his voice, and those deep gravelly whisperers he used when he growled his commands into my ears. My nipples hardened, turning into aching points thrusting against my blouse. I rolled my finger over one, stifling my moan.

Me: I want you.

Me: Even after everything, I crave you.

Me: I fucking hate it.

My fingers flew over the touch screen like machine gun fire.

Me: I should be pissed about you and Licia, but I know that wasn’t your fault.

Me: She was just a quick no-name bar hookup, and you fell into the honey trap.

Me: And despite it all, if you were here right now I’d be writhing on your cock.

Me: I hate it.

Me: I don’t even know if I forgive you.

I shuddered at my confession. Though was it really a confession? Regi knew I was conflicted, knew I was addicted to him and had been trying to kick the habit — him — for years. I crossed my legs and ground my pussy against my thigh. I was wet.

His replies came through like molasses dripping from a bottle; dark, slow and sweet.

Regi: I know you do.

Regi: I know you can’t forgive me. Not yet, at least.

Regi: But I also know your tight little pussy is already slick and hot for me.

Regi: And that you want me to fuck you until you can’t walk.

Regi: How long has it been since you’ve come screaming?

Regi: I know what you need.

Regi: You want me to shove you into the pillows and pull your ass up.

Regi: And then fuck you until your toes curl and body aches.

Fuck. I whimpered and closed my eyes, blocking out the dirty words written in black and white. My pulse sped through my veins, the fast tempo giving me a lusty adrenaline rush.

My phone buzzed again.

Regi: But I’m not going to fuck you, Mia. You only want me for my body. I want all of you.

My hands shook, and it took longer to reply than it should have.

Me: I know you do.

Regi: So, give it to me. All of you. Heart. Soul. Body.

The lust I’d been feeling burned off in a sudden rush of tears. My eyes filled, and I blinked them back before they could fall. He’d been chasing me for five years. I’d been beyond cruel to him, and he still wanted me. My lower lip trembled. Could I do this with him? Should I? Could I forgive him for hooking up with Licia? Was I mature enough to not blame him for her trick? Could we start over, a clean slate without our history chaining us down? Or we having a Sisyphus moment, pushing this boulder up the hill only to get crushed by it?

Mia: I’m scared.

Regi: I know you are, baby. I know. Trust me. I won’t ever hurt you.

I rubbed my thumb over the keypad, a mental game of Russian Roulette spun inside my head. Yes or no. No or yes. Around and around the questions turned, until I gave in and let the hope suck me under.

Mia: Okay. How about tomorrow?

Regi: Is this a date?

His hope poured through the phone. Four words, but I could almost feel the excitement. The ice around my heart thawed, and maybe some of the damage was healed because I was smiling as I replied to him.

Mia: Yes.

A small pinhole opened in the armament guarding my emotions, allowing Regi to make his move.